


Running on my mind

by Satellite_Of_Love



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Fear of Abandonment, Hurt/Comfort, I feel like I made Jisung cry for hours, Jisung feels like he will never be reciprocated by Minho, Jisung is a musician, Leftist Minho, M/M, Minho is a future Philosophy Ph.D, The longest conversation I have ever written, a bit political
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satellite_Of_Love/pseuds/Satellite_Of_Love
Summary: ''Minho. Straight nose, heart-shaped lips and cat eyes. Sweet voice, sweet laugh, sweet touch. Rough words, harsh looks, murderer eyes. Even behind the curtain of tears, he could look at Minho and see clearly, he sometimes wondered if no matter how much time went by, Jisung would still be able to close his eyes and see clearly. He didn’t know if this was something he wanted or not.''Jisung has an anxiety attack and doesn’t think Minho will be able to help, maybe because he is the reason why he is crying, or maybe because he knows that Minho’s analytical mind will be able to get inside of him and find the real roots of his despair, a maze of memories that Jisung doesn’t want to face.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 23
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

To Jisung’s disappointment, waking up in the middle of the night was never like in the movies; there was no such thing as a sudden upthrust followed by a gasp, no unforeseen motion detaching him from the god-knows-how-many-threads sheets to dramatize the moment, a camera would be nothing but bored to have to follow the uneventful awakening that he experienced around three a.m on a Tuesday night. What a change would it be, wouldn’t it? A camera bored by Jisung was something he had yet to experience, and maybe that was one of his issues. What can be said without exaggerating about Jisung’s sudden inability to successfully sleep for more than four hours, an impediment that he had been undergoing for about a week now, is that it felt like fucking hell.

Symptoms: The whole length of his body cover by cold, disgusting sweat, in what would be the perfect picture of a boy falling asleep under a mild rain, ruling out the part of the rain and also the part about getting some shut-eye. So, yes, basically a lot a sweat accompanied by his racing heart, a beating he could feel more on his neck than in his actual ribcage, pulsing and throbbing in a rate that you wouldn’t expect from a person that was asleep just seconds ago. Maybe it would be understandable had he been awaked by an unexpected sound, movement, light, anything. Had Minho moved? Had he inconsiderately gotten up to go take a piss? Jisung took a look to his right, to where Minho was lying, and found his by now familiar answer: the sweat, the pace of his heart, the lump located in the middle of his throat, he knew that there was nothing in the outside that could have caused this to him. Again.

How could movies construct a hero that moves the second he is awaken? Does that happen in real life to anyone? Not having discussed the subject with many other individuals, his knowledge about the area began and ended in his own, personal experience, so if the world was to him only what he knew about it and what he had experienced, waking up and being able to instantly move was not something that would ever fucking happen. Instead, what was waiting for him to open his eyes was nothing but the reminiscent of his teenage angst, all of them amplified by the current context in which his life was taking place, all of them pushing him into the soft mattress.

What came first, the chicken, the egg, the feeling or the awakening? Jisung was a second-class detective that had been wondering without really desiring to get an answer. Did he feel bad because he couldn’t rest as he should, or was he unable to sleep because these dreadful feelings had the upper-hand and would be caught dead before letting him have a way out of them? Did the feelings infiltrate his dreams? Was that why he had been waking up with all of these alien symptoms that he couldn’t trace a reason for?

Whatever came in first wasn’t relevant at the moment, the sole idea of moving felt strenuous, it seemed as if a heavy weight had been placed in his chest, attaching him to the bed and taking the life out of his limbs. And no, it wasn’t Soonie, Doongie or…Jisung couldn’t for the life of it remember the name of the third cat (and was too afraid to ask at this point, since Minho’s irritation when it came to his cats was something he considered to have a phobia for), it was something coming from his own damn, betraying brain. He didn’t remember feeling this kind of exhaustion since the last time he had went to a protest against whatever shit the government was doing. Physical exhaustion was nothing, really, since nothing made him feel as drained as those moments in which his sanity would seem to fade away.

As fragile as it was, there was a need in him to take control of the situation, to move, get out of bed, go wash his face, maybe grab a bite. If he wasn’t a fighter then he wasn’t anything, right? In this situation, however, the difficulty of every possible action was amped considerably, except for one, clearly. The burning tears that were forming in his eyes were asking to be released, and as much as Jisung wanted to hold them back, they rolled down his cheeks, relentless to his need to stay strong, a reminder of the lack of control he seemed to be having over his body lately.

They had talked about this, but Jisung was unable to tell to which level the exchange had been truly sincere, a feeling of distrust he couldn’t get rid of. It hadn’t always been like that for him, he had a long past of being a naïve, trusting boy…well, man, a trusting man. God, now that he was close to turning twenty-five it really was time to stop thinking about himself as a boy and start accepting reality. Maybe that was another one of the problems.

He had been feeling suspicious of other people lately, he now doubted the conversations he participated in, the motivations and aims other people kept. His childish side wanted to blame this on the man sleeping next to him, one of the most distrustful persons he had ever crossed paths with, and also the literal person closest to him, the easiest one to put the blame on without having to reflect about why it was that he had changed so much.

Minho was…just one of those people, the kind that used to irritate Jisung, the ones he would rolled his eyes at whenever they would express their suspicion about every single fucking thing. The world is not plotting against you, he would like to say from time to time, you are not that important. Except now he was starting to understand the feeling, and that was why Jisung couldn’t bring himself to alert him about how dreadful he felt, even after Minho had expressly asked him to wake him up in case he experienced insomnia once again. How was he supposed to know if Minho was being sincere or not? Did he actually want to have his scarce sleeping interrupted? What was he going to do, anyway, comfort Jisung? He felt a shiver going down on his spine; tenderness wasn’t part of Minho’s personality, at least not part of what he had seen so far, and he had seen a lot.

Somehow, the train of thoughts that Jisung had followed made him feel worst, this time the pain in his stomach being enough to make him fold on himself, to make him finally move to one side and cry as silently as he could. He was lying to himself by pretending not to want to wake Minho up right now, it was the only thing he desired, to wake him up, to be held and told that everything was going to be alright, but how could he? What if Minho was bothered by it?

Worst, what if Minho rejected him? He wasn’t counting, but Minho’s ‘’rejection’’ and distance could be tolerated only a limited amount of times, if they were to keep on happening then his heart might start to actually, literally break.

It was his own fault, really, for no one had forced him to approach and chase a man he knew he couldn’t have in the first place. Well, maybe it was a little bit Hyunjin’s fault too?

At first, he had thought that Minho was just a dancer, like Hyunjin was, not to despise dancers and the incredible art they dedicated their lives to, but he was so, so much more. They day he had been cursed with what sometimes felt like the most intense feeling he had ever experienced had happened a few months ago, at a production of a ballet show. Not just a ballet show, but one of those postmodern productions in which something like putting a man in the Carmen role could happen.

That’s how he saw Minho dancing Entrée and Habanera, names he would later learn as he compulsively searched online in the company’s YouTube channel. A red Spanish-like attire with flowy strips, pointe shoes and a face constructed by Satan himself were the only things Minho carried with him.

There wasn’t much he could say about the movements per se, for he knew nothing about ballet, but the confidence, the looks, the flirt, he felt prepared to write an essay on that matter. He had presented himself with the characteristic Carmen smirk and pose, his eyes exuding a kind of confidence and seduction that made Jisung’s mind fly away for a few seconds, the next thing he noticed was the man putting up his leg while looking straight into the audience, knowing exactly how he looked, then two movements of his shoulder with his eyes lazily blinking, and a final pose that Jisung had burnt in his retina from watching the YouTube video so many times. Minho helplessly bending down on the arms of another person was going to be a recurrent image that his brain would bring up at the most inappropriate times no matter how much he tried to suppress it.

Still, watching that performance hadn’t been enough to turn Jisung into the borderline-obsessed mess he was nowadays. It was what came afterwards what would trigger a kind of fascination he had never felt before.

‘I’m going to vote for a president that’s gonna take most of your money away in taxes.’

Those were the first words Minho ever said to Jisung. Or something like that, it’s not like Jisung had the ability to remember every single one of the weird words Minho used in his day-to- day life, so maybe the phrase had been simplified in his memories. The words were spat more than said, since Minho’s gaze had obscured when Jisung had revealed his face by taking his mask off, far from exultant to see who he was. His expression didn’t linger for too long in the same position, it quickly transformed into a side smirk, one he found out was not reserved to Carmen performances.

Was it a good thing that the malicious smile didn’t die when the performance was put to an end? Jisung wasn’t sure, but as Hyunjin would later tell him, this was Minho’s final performance in the company, so at least he could still be sure that the Carmen smile was going to keep on living for the world to see it and for Jisung to be subjected to it. Minho really wasn’t that good of an impersonator; it was just that the Carmen spirit matched his own self, smirk included.

‘God, Minho, why do you have to be like this?’

Hyunjin’s words later that night confirmed what he was already suspecting: he was not special, Minho didn’t hold a particular grudge on him; he was just upfront about how he felt. He didn’t hate Han Jisung specifically, nor did he have any problems with his music, he just happened to have his reasons to dislike people like him.

‘Sorry dude, he’s like, I don’t know, a fucking communist or something. I swear I don’t understand half of the things he says.’ Hyunjin sighted, ashamed at his friend’s behaviour, while he watched Minho leave into the crowd of dancers without another word, just a fading laugh and a wink. ‘He’s just super weird and hates everyone.’

‘I thought you said he was your friend.’

‘Well, sort of, but I also can’t stand him.’

Never having done one of those tests about weaknesses and strengths, Jisung wasn’t sure if he would call himself impulsive. What he was sure of was the fact that he was, at the very least, intrigued, and that this particular feeling of curiousness wasn’t something people tended to spark in him very often. He also knew that when he wanted something he could have more confidence in himself than most people did.

That night Jisung begged Hyunjin to let him attend the dinner party the dance studio was holding. A bad idea, clearly, since they knew Jisung would attract unwanted attention. A bad idea that was carried out nevertheless once Jisung promised his friend to take him to the backstage of that other rapper he liked so much.

Getting out of his bag all the charisma an introvert was able to invoke, which was more than one would think, Jisung was able to spend most of the night besides Minho, mostly getting teased by him. In those hours the fascination merged with admiration, the man knew so much about so many things, he could get incredibly annoying at times and yet the people around him still wanted to hear his opinion again and again. He could carry himself with soft manners that converged rudeness and respect for others at the same time, he laughed easily but not too loudly and would help Jisung get out of a conversation he wasn’t interested in when some fan popped out of nowhere. 

At the moment he couldn’t have guessed how increasingly hard getting Minho’s attention was going to be.

He found out that Minho had to stop performing because he was currently working on his philosophy Ph.D and wouldn’t have much time to practice. Minho also hated millionaires, a thing Jisung happened to be due to his music career. They met two more times thanks to Hyunjin, and after that it was Jisung the one that kept on looking for him. Months later, he was lying awake in Minho’s bed, unable to wake him up, what had happened in the middle?

Trying to keep the unpleasant memories away, Jisung found out that he was able to cry even harder no matter how many times he thought that he had run out of water in his system. His tears could apparently keep up with the pace in which his feelings grew, as branches of dread spread all along his chest and a single thought infected his mind, making his head throb and spin. He realized that his cries had also grow louder when he felt a pair of arms reaching to his back first, unsure, and then finding their way around Jisung’s waist.

They both waited.

Minho’s white curtains started moving as a sudden cold wind invaded the room, the big windows had been left open, a normal thing to do in what had been a particular hot summer night up to that point. Faintly, on the background, the sounds of cars could still be heard despite what the clock was marking. Jisung wasn’t seeing or hearing any of this, the only thing his panicked mind could be aware of at the time was the tight pressure against his body and the weight of Minho’s silence against his right ear, he was blind to what he didn’t feel as a matter of survival.

He wanted to stop crying just as much as he didn’t want to stop. Right now everything was contained and wrapped in an acceptable balance, but he knew what was going to happen, he would have to _talk_ about what was going on once he was managed to calm down, Minho was not going to let it go until he knew what was up with him. But really, he didn’t want to have to think about what was up with him, he only felt like the world was going to end and was suddenly unable to think past it, the feeling had now become his reality and he wasn’t able to draw a future in which he didn’t feel like that. When a momentary feeling is treated like a permanent matter, a person can say stupid things, and really, Jisung didn’t want that to happen to him, not when Minho was finally starting to accept him

Sweet lord, the work it had taken to get close to Minho had been more than what a person would usually put up with, he had read books and watch a million hours of YouTube trying to understand what the fuck Minho talked about, he had accompanied him to seminaries and weird meetings, he also had discovered a fire inside of him and a need to chase that he never thought he would have. Jisung thought about a lot of situations he had lived with him like rejections, but truth was that Minho had never actually rejected him, it was just the feeling Jisung was left with most of the time. Minho never said no, he never said ‘’go away’’, he never reacted in the way Jisung expected him to, it was just that his attention was something really, truly hard to get.

Jisung might have felt like a creep chasing a man that wasn’t interested in him if it wasn’t for one detail, Minho didn’t act the same way as most people did, he really was upfront and didn’t have any problem with breaking someone’s heart. He had seen in a first road seat what it looked like when Minho actually rejected someone, it wasn’t nice and luckily it hadn’t been his fate yet. He knew that this intriguing, arrogant man was not rejecting him, but he couldn’t help his own feelings. When you are used to being chased by the spotlight, anything less than that can feel like rejection, and boy, Minho’s attention was the farthest he had ever gotten to being under the spotlight.

As a popular rising musician, Jisung was nothing but admired most of the time, even most of Minho’s academic snob friends were interested in chatting with him about his music, about the process, music theory and the lyrics. Some of them, conversely, looked down upon him for various reasons, going from his wealth to his low educational level, and to be honest Jisung hadn’t felt this dumb in his whole life, he was so used to being praised for saying the minimum that he had taken the obnoxious habit of talking about himself too much. Now, he needed to listen a lot more that he had been used to.

One time he had asked Minho if he thought he was dumb, to which he answered something about how the classification of smart/dumb didn’t have much use or analytical potential, so he didn’t use such typology and therefore wasn’t interested in sorting people out based on being smart or dumb, but rather on the kind of knowledge they possessed.

‘Ok, then what kind of knowledge do I have?’ Jisung asked, impatient at Minho’s inability to answer a simple yes or no question. Absorbed by whatever he was reading in his phone, Minho didn’t answer the question.

‘Never mind what I said, dumb is a useful category’ Minho looked at him with a bright smile, laughing and endlessly amused by the content of his phone, which he was now showing Jisung. ‘This song of yours is really fucking dumb.’

Jisung was used to being chased, not the other way around. He didn’t seek people, people seeked for him. But Minho, nothing but weird, always the fucking snowflake, never followed the rules of anything. He would sometimes talk to him for hours and listen like no one had ever listened in his life, only to then be silent for a week. Jisung didn’t have that much time to dwell on that fact, he had a tight schedule and it wasn’t like he would’ve been able to see Minho anyways.

He dwelled on the fact nonetheless.

A couple of months went by and Jisung was no longer a millionaire. He thanked whatever deity was up there for his popularity, because otherwise he wouldn’t have had the power to carry out the changes he wanted to make in the production of his music. Don’t get him wrong, he had always been a social advocated, and that was part of the reason behind his popularity and appeal to the public, but he had never understood how much he actually could do from his position, how distributing a mostly equal pay among his now co-workers (and no longer employees) could change lives, how talking against exploitation and unethical production of CD’s and merchandising could open national-wide debates about how the music industry should be managed. He understood all of this thanks to Minho, but he really didn’t do it _for_ him, that would’ve been wrong, it was just that after opening his eyes there was no way back, all of that money needed to be used in something good, and not in the charitable way that did nothing to change structural problems, but in actually giving people a chance in life.

This was something that had helped him a lot in the last two months, it had made him feel like there where things worth fighting for, which was something increasingly harder to think as his mental state went down the hill. Sometimes nothing was enough, his fuel was starting to run out and nothing could give him the motivation he needed these days. And upturn had happened when Minho fucking finally decided to kiss him five weeks ago, after months of the weirdest ‘’not actually a friendship but also not a romantic relationship’’.

Summer was just starting back then, and of course, Minho had been using one of those tight pants that seemed to be too warm to use at that time of the year, the kind that made Jisung want to cry every time he looked at him. They were at…where were they? It was hard to remember in detail given how insanely intoxicated he had been, but it had been at a pool party or something, it had been Jisung who had invited Minho to the place, and he had accepted for a change. Yes, he could remember now, it had been at Chan’s girlfriend's house, the house that had burned down. That’s, of course, another story.

As he had learned, Minho was a great pretender, and could make everyone in the room laugh no matter the feelings he experienced at the moment, but lately it had become more and more difficult for him to engage in a conversation he actually had interest for, making an habit of turning the conversation into weird and unexpected paths that only he was interested in. Jisung, on the contrary, could be either the life of the party or the most uncommunicative person you will ever meet, no in-between. That day had been one of those weird ones in which Minho felt more rolled back than usual, immersed in his thoughts and unable to focus on the outer world, while Jisung felt capable of chatting about nonsense with whoever crossed their paths.

Given this, they had sat at some deck chairs located near the pool and stayed there, avoiding as much people as they could. Minho would occasionally show him something funny he found on his phone and Jisung would laugh more than he should, a result of how far gone he had been at the moment. People would come and talk to them, but Minho didn’t answer unless a direct question was asked to him. It was okay, this time Jisung could answer for both of them.

Hyunjin, now a close friend of Changbin, who had been kindly enough to invite him, was sitting next to them, sometimes chatting with other people and sometimes stating stupid theories about the world that would make Minho’s eyes roll backwards at the display of buffoonery. At some point Hyunjin left and Minho climbed on top of him.

Looking at him with his intense gaze, one that was born of the flames of hell just like his Carmen smirk, Minho asked one question Jisung never thought he would ask. He experienced at the same time a breath that smelled like alcohol and weed shoved right his face and the stupidest question he had ever heard.

‘Do you like me?’

Granted, Jisung was drunk and high, and that wasn’t a state in which people were known to successfully carry out a conversation, he surely must’ve heard wrong. Minho wasn’t asking what he thought he was asking, was he?.

‘Sorry, what?’

Some of the intensity of Minho’s gaze was lost after Jisung asked for a repetition, but his hands reached for his arms, grabbing them firmly and wrinkling the fabric of his shirt, perhaps to give him a dramatic touch, or maybe just to hold himself from falling.

‘Jisung, do you like me?’

He had asked exactly what he thought he had asked. He couldn’t believe it.

‘You are kidding me, right?’ He tried to analyze Minho’s eyes in search for something that would tell him why he would ask that when he already knew the answer. As always, he couldn’t find anything but rough honesty. ‘Is this a joke?’

‘Why would I be joking?’ He asked, dead serious. ‘I just want to know if you like me. I have been spaced out all day and now I’ve realized that I won’t be able to focus on anything else until you tell me.’

Jisung locked his eyes with him, hoping he would understand just from that, but apparently he was still waiting for the words to be said. He wanted to say so many things, he wanted to say that of course he liked him, that he wouldn’t have fucking stayed by his side if he didn’t, that he wouldn’t had bear a person like Minho if he hadn’t liked him, that the people that stayed by his side only did it because they all liked him. He didn’t only like him, he felt so much more and he wanted to state it.

He didn’t say it. He saw him, so expectant. Amazing.

So he just nodded. Releasing a breath, coming closer, Minho.

Chapped lips on him, his hand caressing him, arms around his waist, he only felt that.

As cliché as it was, being able to finally touch Minho felt like being able to breathe for the first time in months, he would like to say that his burning skin felt like the Promised Land under the tip of his hands, except that saying that sounded horrible and most likely objectifying. In any case, the desire had been built for so long that neither of them were able to think about the words they would use to describe each other, at least Jisung didn’t. However, apart from the kissing and the fucking, their relationship hadn’t changed that much.

There were some things that had changed, of course, otherwise Jisung wouldn’t had found himself crying his heart out in Minho’s bed, specially not on a Tuesday night, when Minho had to go to work in just a few hours.

Nights had been lonely for too many years, and maybe Minho’s arms around his waist trying to calm him were something good, so why was he so afraid? The answer came fast when Minho disentangled himself, his comforting warmth leaving his side and the cold wind finally reaching him. Jisung wanted to move, to turn around, get up and ask him why he stopped, especially when Minho got up from the bed and left the room, leaving the bed feeling too big and the night too cold. He wanted to move and ask, but he couldn’t, his body felt like a corpse, even more so now that he was left alone. That was what he feared, the abandonment.

It wasn’t something new, Jisung had dealt with this kind of feelings for most of his life and he had always gotten out alive, even from the moments he thought he wouldn’t. Getting out of his parents’ house had been a good moment, his music career starting to build was another one, those were things that kept him from lying down and letting himself be defeated, but the battle had existed inside of him since always. Lately he wasn’t winning anymore.

He never wanted to think the worst but he had been doing it, it was hard not to when he felt like situations kept repeating again and again. He couldn’t help but wonder why he kept dragging himself to places when he knew what the outcome was going to be, did he secretly wanted this? Or was it just that he wanted to prove that he was right to think that everyone would eventually leave him?

Being immersed in his thoughts, unable to focus on his surroundings, it came as a surprise when a warm ball of fur was thrown on top of him. The shock was the only thing motivating enough to finally make Jisung sit upright, ending the lethargy state with a screech and a quick movement. The cat didn’t seem to be baffled at all. Minho was standing next to him, looking at him amusedly. That fucking smirk.

‘There, Dori will make you feel better.’ Dori, that was the name of the third cat.

Minho walked to the other side of the bed and threw himself on it, crawling to lie close to Jisung and therefore being able to pat Dori. Jisung mimicked his movements, lying back down and staring at the ceiling, he felt slightly nauseous, talking was going to strenuous. He knew Minho was waiting for him to say something, so he did.

‘You scared me.’ His voice sounded weak and raspy.

‘Well…’’ Minho put his hand in Dori’s head, grabbing her head and moving it fast, annoying her like he usually did. ‘at least you stopped crying.’ He gave Jisung a towel, covering his face with it. ‘Clean your face, you are covered in snot.’

‘Why didn’t you bring me tissues?’ Jisung asked, blowing his nose with the towel. He had left a big puddle of tears in the pillow, he hoped that Minho wouldn’t mind too much, a difficult task considering he had some good quality sheets.

‘Look how much you cried, you would use too much paper.’ Minho pretended to sight with an ‘’ah’’ sound. ‘That wouldn’t be too ecological from you.’ He tried to joke with a little smile, but got no answer.

A minute or two went away as Jisung tried to get rid of his tears, Dori would occasionally try to grab the towel with her claws, when that happened, Minho would grab her with his left hand and put her back in Jisung’s lap. It didn’t really matter how many times he tried, the cat seemed to have a natural hunter instinct and would go back to chase the towel in seconds.

‘I sometimes forget that my cats are actually my masters and that I am just a human they decided to take care of.’ As he sighted, his cat kept on fraying the towel.

To this, Jisung finally answered, not with words but with a little snort. Of course the only beings in this world able to put Minho on a leash would be cats, no human would have such power, the only exception probably being Minho’s mom. He didn’t know that much about the relationship, but so it seemed that they were close, Jisung sometimes daydreamed about talking to her and asking how did she managed to raise such a pain in the ass, but that was only when he felt really angry.

Cleaning his face turn out to be a long, fruitless task, since Jisung started crying once again the second he felt the softness of Minho’s hand and the coldness of his rings lying on his cheek, trying to turn Jisung’s face with a delicacy he wasn’t used to, wanting to be able to look at him directly.

Minho. Straight nose, heart-shaped lips and cat eyes. Sweet voice, sweet laugh, sweet touch. Rough words, harsh looks, murderer eyes. Even behind the curtain of tears, he could look at Minho and see clearly, he sometimes wondered if no matter how much time happened, Jisung would still be able to close his eyes and see clearly. He didn’t know if this was something he wanted or not. Looking at him, he couldn’t help but linger on the details, Minho had stopped dying his hair, it was his natural black color now, parted in the middle and maybe a bit too long, covering his eyes in what could sometimes feel uncomfortable , he had his glasses on, but they were more on his right than they should be. Under the glasses, his eyes looked both tired and worried, was Minho really worried about him? Could that be it?

As if possessed by something else, Jisung extended his hand without realizing he did it, urged to caress Minho’s cheek too. He really was beautiful, but he was also so many other things. Both the smartest person in the room at all times and the person that wanted to hear other people’s opinion the most. Both the best listener he had ever met and the one that would mock you the hardest when he found something you said to be illogical or incorrect. Falling for him had been way too easy, and he feared it would be too painful as well.

‘Why are you crying, Jisung?’ Minho finally asked what he had wanted to ask since he woke up. As predictable as it was, it only made him cry harder, now putting both of his hands over his face to try and hide how ugly he thought he looked when he cried.

‘I don’t know.’ He managed to say in between sobs. It was a bit of a lie but not a full one, he knew what was upsetting him, but he didn’t know why it was that he was crying so hard. ‘Sorry.’

‘Sungie, don’t apologize, it’s okay. If you don’t know why you are crying then maybe you can try to tell me what you are feeling.’

Jisung couldn’t see any difference in between talking about why he was crying and talking about what he was feeling, so he said no with his head while he kept on crying behind his hands. There was no way out, was it? Minho was not going to let it go. He wished he had the power in him to just turn around and ignore his lover until he fell asleep, denying what happened until they both forget about it. Minho seemed to know where his thoughts had gone to.

‘Babe, it is not going to get better unless you talk about it. You haven’t slept properly for a week now, and now you are crying like the world is about to end.’ Minho moved so he could rub Jisung’s back, making some sort of effort to comfort him. He usually wasn’t the kind of person to do this, his approach had always been to look at the practical solution for a problem and not to dwell on what couldn’t be changed, and that was going to be how he would try to solve Jisung’s problem. ‘Believe me, I would rather be sleeping, but then the problem is gonna keep on coming to the surface, so talk to me and we’ll figure out how to make it better.’

Jisung felt some slight annoyance at this, why couldn’t he have it his way for once?

‘Minho I, like, fucking hate talking.’

Minho looked at him with disbelief clearly showing in his sleepy, confused eyes, a pair that seemed to be permanently frozen in a judging state. He looked at him as if wondering in what kind of parallel universe did Jisung live.

‘Sungie, you spend more time talking than breathing, I am willing to support this with empirical evidence.’ He declared, putting one hand over the other in a motion that mimicked the one that a person asking for proof would do. ‘Since when do you hate talking? To new people? Sure, but to me?’

‘You know what I mean.’ Jisung replied, ignoring what he felt was a critic being thrown at him, he didn’t need to dwell on anything that would make him feel more ashamed and small than he already did. ‘You are the one that’s good at talking, not me.’

The dramatic response from the older man was not something he was expecting, since Minho sat quickly and looked at him straight in the eye, fixing his glasses. The confused and exasperated look that took over his features was in the limit between funny and frightening.

‘Did you really just say that _I_ am the one good at talking? Me? The person that was invited to Hyunjin’s house for breakfast and started talking about how Cecilie of Greece died in a plane crush while giving birth? I am starting to think that you are losing touch with reality and going crazy. Do you remember what month are we in?’

There was a big chance that, as it usually happened, Minho wasn’t actually trying to be a bitch, it was just the way he was, the way he interacted. Maybe, had he been less sleepy, Minho would’ve realized that this was not the moment for harshness, that what Jisung needed was containment and tenderness. Maybe, had Jisung been lees sleepy as well, he wouldn’t have taken Minho’s words so harshly. It was not the case either way, so Jisung reaction was to keep on sheding tears, not that he had any saying in this, it just happened.

‘Hey, no, no, no. Wait, I was trying to make you laugh’ As Jisung tried to keep his face hidden behind his hands, Minho grabbed them and pulled them away, putting his own fingers under Jisung’s eyes, drying his tears with his thumbs. While looking at each other, Minho used the sweetest voice Jisung thought he was capable of doing. ‘Sungie, what’s going on?’ he asked with his eyes rapidly looking up and down, from his eyes to his tears over and over.

‘Nothing’s going on’ Jisung knew that there was no way Minho was going to believe this, so he could only hope that the words, the annoyance with which he delivered them and the fact that he turned around so he wouldn’t be facing him anymore could get the message across. Really, it was bold of him to assume that Minho would give up so easily. No, what Minho wanted he usually got.

He could lie and say he was surprised when Minho turned him back and got himself on top of Jisung, grabbing his hands to pin him against the mattress, but truth is he wasn’t surprised at all. Minho, unlike what someone would think at first glance, would not doubt to appeal to physical strength if needed, something Jisung tried to avoid as much as necessary.

There he was, on top on him, the future of epistemology. Minho’s eyes rarely showed any emotion other than annoyance, this time was not the exception. Jisung tried to avoid his gaze, but Minho would move to whichever side Jisung did, chasing his look relentlessly. When he realized that catching his eyes was not going to happen, he settled with what he had.

‘I’m really sorry to bring this up, but you are leaving me no choice.’ Minho sighted. ‘You need to understand why I am so worried.’

When Jisung decided to spend the night in Minho’s house, he didn’t know that a tidal wave was waiting for him, otherwise he would’ve decided to sleep in his own house instead of having to face this.

‘One of the downsides of being a celebrity such as yourself, Mr. J.One, is that it very easy to learn a lot of personal stuff that I shouldn’t know.’ These words were triggering enough to make Jisung look at Minho in the eyes, trying to swallow but finding out that his throat was too dry for such thing. A pause. Minho staring at him, letting his words linger, a prelude to Jisung’s blood pressure lowering, his head getting lighter and his heart thumping loudly in his temples. ‘I know you tried to kill yourself, Jisung.’

He was right, he shouldn’t have known that.


	2. Chapter 2

The stupidest thing to do would be to try and deny it, Minho could be a lot of things, a liar was not one of them, neither a charlatan. If he was bringing this up there was already a big chance that, as usual, he knew more than what he was saying. The logical thing to do, the best way out of the pickle he had found himself in would be to minimize it, to blame the press and say that it was nothing like it had been pictured, to laugh it off and treat is a nonchalantly as possible. However, when in a panic rush people tend not to be able to think of the logical thing to do quickly enough, but rather to act first and think later.

Later, Jisung will be able to reflect and wonder how he could think that a stupid, blatant lie would help him get out of an uncomfortable situation, but at the moment he was able to believe his own lie enough to be confident in it.

‘Wha-what are you talking about?’ Jisung asked, his voice raspy and choky after the continuous crying. He didn’t decide quickly enough if he should act offended or amused, so his reaction seemed to be a weird mix of both. ‘That’s not true.’

Dori jumped out of bed, scared when Minho released an unnecessary loud groan while looking at the ceiling as if asking some deity to help him carry out such strenuous task.

Jisung hated feeling like a problem, he felt like one for most of his childhood and became one on purpose in his adolescence. He hated it even more when it was others making him feel like one.

‘Are you really going to lie to me right now?’ Minho asked, sounded offended. ‘Do you think that I am an idiot? I know how to google, I know when the information I find has some truth in it.’ Is that was this is about? Minho feeling offended whenever he is not treated as some sort authority in whatever he is talking about? Jisung stared at him, incredulous for a few seconds. ‘Are you going to deny it? I know it is true.’

‘Yes, Minho, you always know better, don’t you?’ An unstoppable wave of repressed feelings seemed to be emerging from Jisung’s depths, ready to vomit on the first person available regardless if that person was guilty or not. As he tried to wipe the tears away with the sleeve of his shirt as best as he could, still being held down into the bed, he angrily spitted some words knowing that he was going to regret them very quickly. ‘It really amazes me how quickly you can become an expert on a subject, since day one you have never given a shit about me but suddenly you know everything there is to know about me better than I do?’

Perhaps the words were not completely true, perhaps saying that Minho never cared for him was stretching it too much, but reality and feelings don’t always meet, and a feeling can become someone’s reality once it grows to a certain extent, distorting it and molding it into something different. Maybe Minho wasn’t the cold-hearted man his mind portrayed at times, but he wasn’t lying when he said that he truly felt neglected, he had felt that for a long time, longer than what he could remember.

He had expected to be met with outrage, with the screams Minho was able to get out of him when he felt the need to speak louder than anyone else, when he felt the need to make everyone know that he was right and everybody else wasn’t, when he felt like the world needed to hear his opinion. Jisung wasn’t looking at him, so he didn’t know for sure what expression he was wearing on his face, but when all he could hear was a reflexive silence, he was able to imagine Minho frowning behind his glasses, eyes lost inside his own mind. A moment passed until Minho talked, still not releasing Jisung from his strong grip.

‘Do you...’ Minho cleared his throat, seemingly affected by what he had to say. ‘Do you really think that I don’t care about you?’

Even though Minho had a sweet voice, he had the habit of speaking loudly and confidently at all times, always finding the correct words quickly, always sounding assertive and sure. This is why Jisung was surprised to find that Minho’s voice came out small and unsure. That was a problem. Minho might have been trying to be communicative, he wasn’t yelling back, and that was going to make things harder for Jisung. While fighting, he could just yell whatever came into his mind without having to give too much thought to it, conversely, while communicating, Jisung would have to be honest about how he felt and try to give a logical explanation to the things he said. Dear Lord, he was already so exhausted.

‘Can you please get off of me?’ Jisung asked, still avoiding Minho’s eyes, the offense in his words wearing off at the fatigue.

‘Can you please answer my question?’

Jisung sighted. Time to say it.

‘Yes.’

‘Yes, you feel like I don’t care about you or yes, you will answer my question?’

Jisung rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, already used to the way Minho was. ‘Yes, I feel like you don’t care about me.’

His tongue felt weird as he said the words, embarrassed by what he was saying because really, who was he to demand attention from Minho? They hadn’t stablished a relationship or any kind of rules to follow, it felt childish to demand something from someone that didn’t owe him anything. At the same time, nevertheless, he felt angry, he knew that the ‘’we are not actually in a relationship’’ card was unfair, that it didn’t quite apply to their particular situation. He felt that, but if this was going to become a rational argument about what was true and what wasn’t, what was feelings and what was logic, then he would have no way to explain his line of thought to Minho and he would only end up embarrassing himself.

His arms were released as Minho’s hands finally set him free, changing his position but still sitting on top of Jisung. Glancing quickly at Minho’s face, afraid to linger on it too much, he noted that Minho was starting to make an explanation in his head about what was happening. It is important to note that Minho being able to explain a situation to himself didn’t necessarily mean that he actually understood the situation, just that he was able to link and make a mental map on how A could possibly lead into Z.

‘Oh. Is that why you have been crying so much?’

If only he could’ve lied and say he wasn’t crying.

‘I’m not sure.’ Jisung tried to be honest even though he wasn’t sure if that was going to end up being the right choice. ‘I woke up feeling like the world was going to end. It usually takes me a moment to understand what it is that is making me feel bad.’

The man on top him put his index finger in his mouth and looked down in a reflexive manner. He thought about it for a second.

‘Well, that’s fucking stupid.’ Minho said.

Groaning, Jisung took a pillow and put it over his face, hiding himself and desiring nothing but to be magically transported to another place in that same instant. No, that wasn’t it, what he actually wanted was to disappear from any sort of existence, whether material or spiritual, since being miserable doesn’t really change depending on where you are, or at least it doesn’t when your misery has nothing to do with material circumstances.

Of course he would find it stupid. Really, what did he expect?

‘It is not stupid, you fucking asshole.’ He said, words muffled against the pillow and exuding less bitter than what he would’ve liked. He wasn’t even that angry at this point, just frustrated at how impossible it seemed to explain himself. ‘You are the stupid one. If you were as smart as you think you are you would try to understand me.’

‘I’m trying to understand you, Sungie.’ Minho said, brushing off the fact that Jisung had just called him stupid. They both knew that wasn’t true anyways. ‘But I really can’t believe that you would think that I don’t care about you. I’m literally in top of you trying to make you talk about your feelings so you will feel better.’ He seemed a bit funny about the last sentence, wincing at his choice of words. ‘Look how I’ve been talking all delicate and everything.’

‘You literally just said that my feelings are stupid.’ Jisung retorted under the pillow.

‘But you know that I don’t really mean it. It’s not that I find it stupid, it’s just that I think you have reached a wrong conclusion, maybe you have overlooked some evidence in order to believe what you want to believe.’

So it seemed, humiliation was not going to be something Jisung would be able to escape. Taking the pillow out of his face and throwing it into the floor, Jisung looked at Minho in the eyes, trying, really trying to convey the swirl of emotions he had inside of him. Slowly, he tried to find the words that would be able to do the job. Luckily, Minho seemed to not be in a rush.

‘Sometimes, when I talk to you, I feel like a child.’ He started, trying not to portray how little he was indeed feeling. ‘You act like you know everything there is to know, like I will always be behind you. You even smile like there is something you understand and no one else does. Sometimes, when I ask you something you don’t even properly answer, you act like it is annoying to have to explain your thoughts.’ He stopped for a second, looking for understanding in the other pair of eyes. ‘Do you notice how condescending it is what you just said to me?’

He saw something in Minho’s eyes, but he was not able to understand what it was.

‘Maybe, but…’

‘No’ Jisung cut him off, feeling braver at his current ability to properly talk. In the back of his mind, he cursed at himself for starting to feel relived at finally putting in words the things he felt, since that meant that Minho had been right from the beginning; he needed to talk or he wouldn’t feel better. ‘Please talk to me like an equal, don’t treat me like I know nothing.’

He wouldn’t admit it, but there was something of a victory feeling sparking inside of him when he saw Minho sighting and starting to look desperate, being for once the one that couldn’t find the right words.

‘No, you are right, that was condescending and I’m sorry.’ Minho admitted, looking actually sorry for once. ‘But what I want you to know is that I don’t feel the way you think I do. I’m not condescending because I think that you are less than me, but because that’s the way I process my thoughts. If I thought that you were less than me I wouldn’t even try to tell you what I think.’

Minho now seemed to be wide awake and entering one of his explaining whirls, the kind that made him look like a crazy scientist bordering on conspiracist, his words were now accompanied by big hand gestures and lost eyes.

‘You hear what I say and maybe you think ‘’Wow, he really thinks that I’m an idiot’’ But I swear it is not it. How to explain it?’ Minho looked at his hands, trying to find inspiration to put his words in a way that wouldn’t sound offensive. He groaned, frustrated at how difficult it seemed to be, but trying anyways. A second later he seemed to find a thread to pull, a story that would make it easier for Jisung to understand. ‘I haven’t told you much about my dad, have I?’

Jisung frowned, surprised at the unexpected turn. ‘…not that I remember. I do know that you get along better with your mother, though.’

‘You are right. Well, I come from a high cultural capital background. My father is also an academic, a psychology professor.’ He chuckled. ‘That explains a lot, right?’

‘Is that why you intrude so much in other people’s mind?’

Minho hit his forehead lightly. ‘Hey, don’t push it, I’m opening up to you.’ He sighted, not comfortable with having to do this. ‘Long story short, he was a logical mind closer to a machine than a human being that never quite grasped how to communicate in a different way. Funny thing is that he literally dedicated his life to understanding subjective feelings, but even there he always needed to find the underlying logic in subjectivity. In any case, that’s the language we used to talk in, and no matter how much I hated it, it ended up being…well, my way as well. So we argued a lot, going from the most insignificant matters to big theories or whatever I needed to learn to not feel less than him. It was like one of those never ending twitter debates in which you end up trying to defend a point you don’t even care about just for the sake of doing it, you know?’

‘I don’t fight with people online.’

‘Of course not, you are famous, you would get into a lot of trouble if you did, that’s for us, peasants. Anyway, don’t focus on that… you do understand my point, right?’ That thing he had seen in Minho’s eyes was starting to have shape. Fear? Embarrassment? Maybe Jisung wasn’t the only one who had been scarred by his uprising. ‘I’m not trying to detach myself from fault; I am indeed a condescending person, but not because I think that you know less than I do, it’s just the way I talk, I throw facts and I expect facts to be thrown at me. I usually surround me with people that function in a similar way; I work well with people that are constantly intruding and trying to tell others how things are. I do the same to you because I respect you, not otherwise.’

‘I’m not someone from work, Minho.’

‘No, no. I know.’ Minho seemed to be getting increasingly frustrated at himself, putting his hands up in a defensive way. He definitely was looking afraid now, but at what? ‘To be honest, I’m so glad that you aren’t like this. I don’t want to be seen like that, I’m sorry. I really don’t want you to feel that way.’ Minho put his hands in both of Jisung’s cheeks, looking at him intensely. ‘I care about you, Jisung, if I didn’t you wouldn’t be here now.’

Maybe that ensemble of words would’ve worked if it had been Jisung directing them to Minho, but they didn’t work so well the other way around. They didn’t sound satisfying, but rather they seemed too harsh and impersonal.

‘I don’t think it is enough to… what? Not hate me as much as you hate others? Tolerate me for a longer period of time than you tolerate the average citizen?’ Jisung tried to joke even as his voice broke and his eyes started burning with the need to keep on crying.

‘Ok, hang on a second there, I don’t think you are being fair.’ As Minho said this, he shook Jisung’s head just a little bit, his voice feeling less affected now. ‘I have really tried these last couple of weeks to…’ Jisung raised his eyebrows, he tried what exactly? ‘…to show you that I care?’

‘Well’ Jisung cleared his throat. ‘I don’t think you have changed much.’

‘What?’ Minho sounded offended. ‘The other day I called you!’ He said this giving it so much importance that Jisung almost felt like laughing.

‘So what?’

‘Have you ever seen me talking in the phone to anybody? I only text, I hate talking on the phone, but I knew that you couldn’t focus on texting at that moment, that’s why I called you.’ He seemed to hear his own words and wasn’t too pleased with them. ‘Okay, that sounds silly, but I really am positive that a lot has changed recently and I don’t understand why you haven’t noticed.’

Making an effort to look for it, Jisung thought about the last couple of weeks, trying to grab on what he had been missing. He quickly realized that he couldn’t, maybe because of the poisonous cloud that had seemed to be fogging his being lately, the one he blamed for the changes his personality had been undergoing. In any case he could think about one thing that kept on repeating in his head, now blocking everything else, aching to get out and be resolved.

‘Minho…’ Jisung started, trying to be brave enough to ask what had been troubling him. ‘Why did you asked if I liked you? I mean that time at that party, when you kissed me for the first time…why would you ask that?’

The man on top of him raised his eyebrows, once again trying to connect dots. ‘You asked the same at the time and my answer is the same as well: I asked because I wanted to know. Why do you put so much thought into it?’

‘No, what I mean is’ Jisung inhaled, nervous at how much he had to reveal. ‘Why would you ask that? Did you really not know that I had been in… in love with you for months?’

Expecting Minho to get nervous at the display of feelings, since such words hadn’t been pronounced at all between them, he was pleasantly surprised to find a lack of nervousness or horror or whatever he thought that would happen once he talked about his feelings. This made him feel comfortable and safe, maybe the world wouldn’t end because of him talking.

‘Oh, no, of course I knew you thought you were in love with me.’

Or maybe it was going to end. It was hard to tell.

Jisung looked at him for a second, mouth open and eyebrows frown. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

‘It means that I knew you were attracted to me, I would have to be too obtuse to not know it. I then saw that the attraction was building into something else, but I was sure that it would fade after some time, and that’s why I asked you once I thought enough time had went by, I wanted to know.’

Still not understanding fully what Minho meant, it took Jisung another second of trying to comprehend, a task he failed to complete, before he talked again. ‘What?’ Was the only thing he could say at first. ‘I don’t even know where to begin, what are you saying? You knew that I was falling in love with you but at the same time you were sure I wasn’t?’

‘You said it, Jisung, I’m not easy to handle.’

‘I have no recollection whatsoever of saying that.’ Jisung raised a hand as if stopping Minho. Sure, he had thought that, but he hadn’t said it. ‘Those are your words, Minho, not mine.’

‘You caught me.’ Minho smiled, the happiness not quite reaching his eyes. ‘I’m not easy to handle, Jisung. I could try and pretend to be humble, but that’s not me, so I will be honest: I know when someone is attracted to me, a considerable amount of people is, but to actually stay by my side? That’s something that doesn’t happen often. When I asked you if you liked me the choice of words was not random. To be attracted, to love someone, those words have different meanings, what I wanted to know was if after months of being by my side you could say that you honestly liked me.’

‘Of course I fucking like you, Minho, what the fuck.’ Trying to make Minho feel better becoming a sort of urgency, Jisung grabbed his shoulders. ‘No, you are not the easiest person to be around, but that is part of what makes me like you.’

‘Hey, it’s alright.’ Minho put his hands on top of Jisung, caressing them in a calming way. ‘I have no doubts now; you are a weirdo that decided to stay by my side. Why? I don’t know, but I respect your awful decision making.’

‘Wait a second.’ Jisung cut suddenly, ignoring most of the self-deprecating words Minho had said, deciding to talk about them later. ‘So, what did you feel all those months? Like, it sounds like you had a plan in your mind. What were you thinking all along?’

‘Well…’ He started, seemingly unsure of what he was about to reveal. ‘Of course I was also attracted to you since the beginning. I just…wasn’t sure.’

Looking sadder than he had since he woke up, Minho finally got out of his lap (something Jisung’s legs appreciated, feeling numb at this point) and lay down by his side, staring at the ceiling and reaching to hold his hand. Jisung found that Minho’s pulse was beating harder than what he had been expecting, and thought that maybe the man had gotten out of him so he wouldn’t be able to see his expression so easily.

‘I was a big fucking moron, and I am sorry. I thought that it would reflect bad on me to be seen with you, I thought…god I feel so stupid now that I have to say it out loud, but I thought that the members of my party would have said something, or that people in university would look down on me. Of course in the end no one said anything, well some people did but no one that I cared for, they just were happy to see me interested and happy I guess, and this was even before you went all Jesus and started sharing your bread with everyone.’

‘I quickly realized that I respected you a lot.’ Minho continued talking. ‘I noticed that you have a kind of confidence that I lack. I doubt myself all the time and I have a hard time going after things because I always think that I am not going to do them well enough. You just go for things, you sometimes write stupid songs that I can’t help but to get obsessed with and you sometimes write things that can just be described as genius. I even felt a little jealous at times, but mostly I think I was afraid.’

‘Were you distant on purpose?’ Jisung asked with a small voice, knowing that whatever answer he was given was bound to hurt.

‘Distant…’ Minho said the word and made a thinking noise, savoring it and seeing something in it that Jisung wasn’t catching on. ‘I see…that hurts you a lot, doesn’t it? When people are distant?’

For some reason the question hurt a lot too. ‘Yes’ He answered, afraid to keep on going, he was starting to feel lightheaded again, the kind of anticipation that you get when you don’t want to know something that you are about to learn.

‘Yes and no.’ Minho sighted, not happy with himself. ‘I am a distant person, I can’t stand people for too long most of the time, so at the beginning it was a mix of me being just me and me being afraid of what people would say. Then I realized that I was in love with you and got scared.’

‘Wait, what?’

If Minho’s reaction to Jisung putting words to his feeling had been calm, Jisung’s one could be placed on the opposite spectrum of the scale. He quickly turned around and grabbed Minho by the shoulders, shocked at what he had heard. In a state of less angst, Jisung would have decided to focus his attention on the love confession, one he had been waiting for since a long time ago, one he now chose to dismiss in order to focus in what was causing pain to him.

‘You were _afraid?_ I was the scared one! I followed you everywhere and you would ignore me half of the time but you were the one afraid?’ His voice was high-pitched but he didn’t mind it, he felt exasperated and wanted to show it. ‘I really can’t believe you, you are a fucking clown.’

‘What did you want me to do?!’ Minho asked sincerely, opening his eyes and mouth. ‘I told you, I was sure you wouldn’t want me after some time, I was getting attached and I didn’t like it.’

‘You acted like an asshole half of the time!’

‘Can you stop insulting me, Jisung?’ Minho asked, looking angry now. ‘You ask me to try to understand you but I don’t think you are doing the same for me. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad; I didn’t know what to do. One day I decided to just go for it, so I did and I stopped being distant.’

‘I really hate that you sound like you were always one step ahead of me. It actually feels like you had a plan all along, one I wasn’t involved in and that you decided on your own. You sound…I don’t even know how to tell you, I feel like a stupid child once again in front of someone that knew everything all along and decided to move strings at his will.’

Silence fell upon them as they faced each other, unable to look into each other’s eyes. Minho seemed to want to calm down before giving an answer. He started slowly and careful.

‘It is not easy, having a conversation like this means gambling and having to fight for the vision I have of myself, a vision I want to protect and that is the ground of my own perception, against the vision you have of me, one I might not like.’ He looked straight at Jisung. ‘What you are saying is partly true, but there’s a lot you are overlooking.’

‘Like what?’ Jisung asked, his voice sounding brattier than what he would’ve liked.

‘Like the fact that you also knew. You spend so much time with me, you got to know me, it would’ve been impossible for you not to know that I liked you more than as just a friend. You saw what would happen when someone was attracted to me and I wasn’t, and that didn’t happen to you. Yes, I might have waited too long before deciding to act on both our feelings, but it’s not like you tried either.’ He licked his lips, they had apparently started to get dry at the amount of talking he was doing. ‘What I think is that you knew I liked you all along, just like I knew about you, but you wanted more than what I was giving to you… Jisung, can I be honest?’

Jisung sighted. ‘It’s not like I have a choice, just say it.’

‘Baby’ Minho tried to say in a sweet way that didn’t fully succeed, putting one hand in Jisung’s cheek. At least he was making an effort. ‘Look, I understand what you mean. You don’t want me to be distant, and you are right that I should make an effort so that I won’t make you feel bad. We both agree on that, don’t we?’ Jisung nodded, tears starting to accumulate in his eyes once again, making it difficult to talk. ‘You are right to say that I wasn’t fair to you, but the thing is that in these couple of weeks things have changed a lot and I think I might be starting to understand why you haven’t realized.’ Minho swiped one of Jisung’s tears with his thumb before he kept on talking. ‘You are so afraid that I will leave you that you can’t see how much I am staying by you side. I think that you feel bad, that’s the foundation, so maybe it won’t matter how much I start caring about you, you won’t be able to register it while you are in this state. And that’s not all, I don’t think you have been crying for the last week because of me.’

‘I’m not sure why I have been crying.’ Jisung confessed. ‘I just know that I keep thinking about you and the times you were distant and it makes me feel really bad.’

Minho hugged Jisung with a kind of strength and warmth that was able to convey how much he cared for the younger boy. It would be inaccurate to say that everything was fine now, but the way he started crying out loud didn’t feel bad, it felt relaxing and calming, like puking to get out the poison inside of you, like cleaning a wound to let it start to heal. Maybe it wasn’t everything he needed, but it sure was everything he wanted.

‘Jisung, I really am so sorry that I made you feel this way, I don’t want to make you feel like this ever again. I promise I will make an effort to show you how much I care for you.’ He kissed his head and cheeks as he kept on hugging him strongly. ‘But like I said, I think this is the symptom but not the cause.’

‘Then what is the cause?’ Jisung asked in between sobs, not having the energy to feel like Minho was being condescending anymore, just wanting to be able to feel better.

It was a fact that, as much as sometimes people wouldn’t like it, Minho always saw things other people couldn’t see as fast. He had an special ability to connect dots that wouldn’t always work in his favor, maybe that’s why he tended towards acting a bit too suspicious of everyone at all times. In another life, he could’ve been a detective, and in some way he was one, dedicating his life to study and write about which are the best ways to get to know the world, about what are the best methods to arrive to an understanding of what surrounds us. Given this, it was not a surprise to find out that Minho had been connecting dots about Jisung, creating a path of understanding that Jisung had thought about but hadn’t given enough importance.

‘You are turning twenty-five in two weeks…when was the last time you talked to your parents?’ Minho waited for Jisung to answer, but when he didn’t he filled with the answer they both knew. ‘It was almost seven years ago, wasn’t it? At your birthday? I think that’s what you told me.’

‘What does that have to do with anything?’ Jisung asked, not trying to sound annoyed but actually wanting to understand.

‘You also tried to kill yourself almost three years ago…again, at your birthday.’ Minho caressed Jisung head, passing his fingers and trying to calm him. Jisung decided not lie this time, there was no point in denying it when Minho clearly knew about it. ‘I’m not a mind-reader, but I think at this time of the year you might start feeling lonely or something.’

Somehow, Minho’s words didn’t sound as weird as they should have.

‘That time…’ Jisung cleared his voice and started again. Minho just kept on holding him, a silent way to say that he was listening. ‘That time, three years ago, it had nothing to do with my parents, what happened is that it was a point when it looked like my career was going to end, my sells had dropped horribly and no one was listening to my music anymore.’

‘Sungie, I don’t mean to say that the context didn’t have anything to do with it. At the moment you felt bad because of that, and now you feel bad because, well, because you are not exactly happy with our relationship. But what I’m trying to make you see is that there is a foundation of something else, something that may be worth to get out of you. See how badly you take rejection or distance, those are things everyone has to face on their day-to-day life, but they affect you more than they should. Look, I’m not a psychologist or anything, but if there’s something I have learned from my father is that everything is our parent’s fault.’

‘I thought everything was capitalism’s fault, though?’ Jisung tried to joke even with tears rolling down his eyes.

‘Shut up.’ Minho chuckled. ‘You do find some sort of logic in what I am saying, don’t you?’

‘Maybe.’

‘They left you here, didn’t they?’

‘My mom…she decided to leave to Malaysia, my father and older brother followed her. I couldn’t go with them, I was starting to have a career here and I didn’t want to drop everything. My parents acted like it was my fault, they were the ones leaving but they put all the blame on me for deciding to stay.’

‘How old were you?

‘Sixteen.’

Minho sighted and kissed him on his forehead. ‘You were too little to be on your own.’

‘It was okay, I managed it.’

‘Maybe, but it might have left some sequels on you.’

Starting to feel drowsy, Jisung’s words started to get out more easily.

‘They…they hated every single decision I made. They hated my music, they hated the way I managed my life. They used to love me so much when I was little, but as soon as I started to make my own decisions they made feel like I was completely useless and wrong all the time.’ Jisung was starting to recall things he wasn’t sure he wanted to recall. ‘We had a big fight at my birthday that time, a really big fight that ended up getting physical and I haven’t talked to them ever since. They tried to contact me a few times, but there never was an actual effort to see their son again.’ With his voice broken, Jisung admitted to one of his biggest fears. ‘They did succeed, tho, they made me feel like I was worth nothing. They made me feel like their silence and distance was a punishment, a rightful one.’

‘You need to find someone to talk about this, Jisung. Please, I really am concerned about you, I don’t think this can keep on going for long, look at the extremes you had been at. I can tell you that your parents are a couple of morons and that they are the ones missing out on the incredible son they have, I can tell you that I care about you and that I love you, but my words are not going to matter unless you can feel them and believe them. I want you to feel loved and cared for.’

Something clicked inside of Jisung’s mind. Ah, that was it.

‘You feel a lot like this too, don’t you?’

‘Like what?’ Minho asked, surprised by the question.

‘I think I get it too.’ Jisung said, making his own mental map. Maybe spending that much time besides Minho, reading and learning, had helped him develop his own analytical skills. ‘That’s why you can understand it so easily; you also tend to feel like a burden. It didn’t matter how much I stood by your side, you still couldn’t believe that I liked you.’

‘But I do know it now.’ Minho released Jisung from the embrace so he could kiss him, just a quick peck that meant the world for both of them. ‘I see why you don’t like it when I get inside your head.’

‘It’s awful.’ Jisung answered, his eyes shut and his body starting to feel like he might be able to finally sleep. ‘Can we stop talking about this now?’

‘Ok.’ Minho let him have his way. ‘But only because I’m really tired too.’

‘You have to get up in like an hour.’ Jisung guessed, not having any energy left to look at the clock.

‘I’m going to call in sick.’

‘You never miss work.’ Jisung’s voice sounded surprised.

‘Yeah, tomorrow I will have to fix all the mistakes those morons are going to make in our investigation without me’ He gave Jisung another quick peck before turning around and silently demanding to be hugged. ‘But right now if I don’t sleep next to you for a few hours I might die. And don’t think this ends here, we’re going to keep on talking tomorrow.’

Maybe, Jisung thought, maybe there was some truth in what Minho was saying. Of course, what he had said was just a hypothesis, a very vague one that he would have to work on to find out. He didn’t have the energy or the mental capacity to think about it now, but the talk had soothe him even if just for a while, he could sleep now and start working on feeling better tomorrow.

Maybe tomorrow the sorrow and the suffering would start once again, but he knew he had a way of fighting out of it, he had gone through worst.

Maybe he wasn’t destined to be abandoned by everyone, he thought before falling asleep, with his angst kept at bay for a moment, clarity opening through his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part here! This is the longest conversation I have ever written, I like it and hate at the same time but hey, that's life. I also feel like both parts are so different from each other, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, I like that one is more thoughts and the other one is all conversation.  
> Hope you at least where entertained by this, hopefully I'll see you the next time I do a mildly political fanfic (I am planning one in which Felix is an anarchist jskjsksjs why? idk)  
> If you liked it leave a comment! If you didn't then don't say anything because I will probably cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! this was supposed to be some 3k thing but alas. I haven't decided if I like it yet, but at least I had fun while writing it. This is going to be just two parts, so please look foward to the second one!  
> PD: English is not my first lenguage so blablabla you know, bad grammar, sorry.


End file.
